


Robins on the Couch

by Dajo



Category: Robins in the Night
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-14
Updated: 2016-08-14
Packaged: 2018-08-08 20:13:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7771582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dajo/pseuds/Dajo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Marian and Jemima talk about a sexual fantasy on the couch, because couches just inspire something in them probably.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Robins on the Couch

“Do you have any sexual fantasies, Jemima?” Marian asked, casually, eating a slice of cake.

Jemima looked up from the couch, where she was lying naked, covered by nothing but a blanket.

“Why do you ask?” She asked, “Are you hoping to join me on the couch?”

Marian, leaning against the door frame, shrugged.

“Well,” Marian said, “I'm just wondering. Unless you have a fantasy that specifically involves that couch.”

“I mean- not really, no, nothing we've already done. We've done the whole... Tying up thing. And the thing with the candle wax. That was nice. And we've had sex on the couch so many times I think we've broken a couple of the springs.”

“So, no sexual fantasies?”

“Sorry, not really. What about you?”

“Yes. I have one.”

Jemima perked up, and sat up, and looked up. Marian had finished her cake and was looking back, with a slight smile.

“Are you going to tell me?” Jemima smiled back, a lilt in her voice.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“Budge up, then.”

Jemima shuffled over, still covered by the blanket. Marian sat down next to her, wearing nothing but her underwear and an extremely baggy shirt.

“Okay. It's Winter. Let's say early December, just afer Sunset.” Marian began.

“Okay.” Jemima cuddled into Marian's side.

“You've just watched it get dark on your way out of the woods. I wasn't at the tavern. You know I'm waiting for you at home. All I've told you to do is wear nice underwear and not be scared. You walk up to my house and knock on the door, noticing it's actually already open. You call for me, but there's no reponse. You look around downstairs- nothing. There's no noise, no dinner made, absolutely nothing. Obviously you might worry at this point, but you remember that I told you not to be scared.”

“I wouldn't be scared. I'm never scared while I'm wearing nice underwear.”

“Perfect. So you go upstairs and look at my bedroom door. The door to said bedroom is slightly ajar, and you walk in slowly.”

Jemima nodded.

“The bed is made, but easy to access. I've taken off, you know, most of the pillows. The curtains are closed and the room is lit by candles. You take off your coat and sit on the bed. After a minute, I walk in. You don't know where I'd been previously, but you certainly hadn't seen me. I have a bottle of wine, and wordlessly, I pour us both a glass. I drink mine, and if you like, you follow suit.”

“What kind of wine?” Jemima asked.

“Red?”

“Okay. Red.”

“I rest my red wine on my desk and stand up. At this point you notice a third empty glass, and I pour it out. The door opens again, and another girl enters. Let your mind fill in who. Preferably somebody we know, or you know.”

“It's Paloma.” Jemima said, too quickly.

“Really?” Marian smiled down at her, “That's interesting.”

“I mean, I can sort of see where this is going, and I'd want it to be...”

“I hand Paloma the glass of wine.” Marian interrupted. “As she closes the door behind her and sits on the bed next to you, I strike a match and light some more candles, though these are more about fragrance than light. You're not scared. You weren't scared the whole time. You're never scared while you're wearing nice underwear.”

Jemima cuddled in closer.

“I begin to play music.” Marian continued, “The source of the music is obvious to you, because obviously it is from near my desk, and it is instrumental, and it is only at a very low volume, so as not to distract. Clearly it's my music box. It's blatantly the music box. That's the only thing it could possibly be. Now, in contrast from earlier when you didn't know what to expect, all of your senses are being mildly stimulated. You can taste your subtly-flavoured wine, smell the aromatic candles, hear the faint and distant but crucial music, and see the girl- Paloma- before you in the flickering sepia light, and while you're thinking about all of this, you scarcely notice your sense of touch until your clothes begin to loosen. I have sat down next to you, on the opposite side of Paloma, and both of us are undressing you. Paloma begins to kiss her side of your neck softly and sensually as her light, gentle hands move with juxtaposing determination over your body, removing your clothes. My own hands assist her, and I too begin to kiss my side of your neck until warmth spreads from both sides up to your cheeks.”

Jemima's breathing was noticeably heavier.

“You give in. You begin to assist Paloma in removing her clothes too. She looks at you, eyes full of trust and mouth full of her own bottom lip as she bites it softly, moving up from your neck to embrace you in vision, and then more literally as her soft-spoken lips lock with your own. You can taste a faint hint of wine as she pushes her tongue against yours with what seems to be hardly any effort. You kiss back, beginning to give in totally to the moment. Your hands move to her hair as hers move to yours. You are hardly aware of me, behind you from your perspective, slipping off your clothes completely, until the girl's hands are away from your hair, sliding over your fragile breast.”

Jemima gripped Marian's hand under the blanket they were now both under.

“Your nerve endings react to the contact, only a thin layer of clothing separating you from her hand. You notice more hands, two more. My hands, strong, and warm, stroking gently against you at first and gradually becoming more forceful, but not painful. Paloma moves away from your lips as you lean back into my shoulder, kissing me so that I may taste Paloma's lips too. You can feel the soft touch of Paloma's clothes against your legs as she takes them off and lets them fall to the floor, in a pile with your own. Both of you are now in your underwear, and you can start to appreciate her form and how similar it is to your own. Even if you had ever been nervous, there is no need to be now. There is no need to be nervous, because there is no longer anything unexpected.”

“I wouldn't be nervous, it's-”

“Except my pulling you further onto the bed.” Marian interrupted again.

Jemima breathed in, gripping Marian's hand tighter.

“You are still leaning into me, though you never get a chance to turn around entirely as Paloma is upon you. Her lips, this time, kiss down your chest, over your stomach, down, down, down. You steal a glance at her and become aware of the eye contact, which sends a warm shiver down your back. A similar shiver goes down your front as my hands move to your breasts, softly stroking and squeezing above your underwear. You hardly know where to look. Do you look at the familiar, welcoming person behind you, or at the new, soft, sensual person below you, becoming more intimate by the second? The answer is given for you. You involuntarily close your eyes as your underwear begins to slip off, both top and bottom. My hands unfasten and pull off your bra, while hers pull your lower garment down and off- the feeling of more clothing against your legs reminds you of when Paloma took off her clothes, but there is a stark jolt back to reality once you realise you are now naked.”

Jemima's lips curled into a smile. “I AM naked,” She said, “Right here next to you.”

“I promise you I haven't stopped thinking about that for a second,” Marian whispered and then continued, “There's the tongue again, and the lips. Paloma's mouth. Soft, hinting at more. You want to take everything in, to focus visually on what's happening instead of focusing on the feeling. Then, my fingers stroke your skin and my hands cup your breasts just as Paloma's tongue becomes more ambitious, flicking over you just at the right spot, and you let out a breath of air that quickly turns into a gasp as her lips embrace that perfect spot with no more hesitation, her tongue twirling eagerly, the most personal ballet. You give in to the feeling, which seems to be coming from every source. You let out moans and short, unintentional gasps as the feeling becomes more intense as I kiss your neck and adore your breasts with my hands, and while your legs shake with anticipation as Paloma continues to love you with her mouth.”

“I want you to know that I'd have nothing against being loved with your mouth right now.” Jemima whispered.

“That's what I am doing, if you think about it- just not physically. It continues. The warmth from everywhere changes, however, as you are suddenly flat on the bed, the blanket against your back. Paloma moves up to your face, quickly, and you have no quarrel about kissing her passionately. You hold her face in your hands while she reaches behind herself and removes her bra, and you can still feel her on your lips even as she moves away, to your breast. There is a moment of nothing, your eyes still closed.”

Marian paused for several seconds, knowing full well what this teasing would do to Jemima.

“Just as you open them to look down and see what's happening, you instinctively throw your head back and gasp as both your breasts are in our mouths. Paloma's mouth doesn't let you down, being just as skilled with this, and my mouth is equally as good. You feel a shaking, her hand has slipped down to my skirt, tugged it down and welcomed itself in. A fleeting moment of jealousy is extinguished rapidly as my hand, welcome and heated, moves down on you.”

Marian paused again.

“Fuck. Don't stop now.” Jemima breathed.

“Both of these hands start to move almost in sync with each other, and you feel a warm vibration on your breast as I moan into you from the contact of her hand.” Marian smiled, and began to loosen her grip on Jemima's hand to allow it to travel elsewhere. “You are quickly conscious of there being three people but only two moaning. You try to reach for Paloma, but to no real avail. There is nothing you can do from where you are. But she and I notice your attempt and move you once again, and before you know it, you feel her mouth back down, at your most intimate area, and suddenly feel soft skin on your face as you realise that you can now return the favour to her, at the same time. Locked in this position, embracing her with your mouth as she does the same to you, she moans into you which intensifies your feeling, and as such you moan into her, intensifying hers, and eventually you are both practically one entity in total symbiotic bliss. She tastes sweet, but not unexpectedly so. Your actions feel right. You are close to complete heaven, when the position changes again. This one takes longer, and you can see how it happens.”

Marian's hand had moved slowly across the warmth of Jemima's naked self until it reached precisely where Jemima wanted to be touched. 

“Paloma suddenly moves off you, moving away from your face and, you know, other parts, like this one,” Marian said with all the confidence of somebody who knows precisely what they are doing to somebody as her hands moved effortlessly, fingers moving in sync with Jemima's breathing, “The orgasmic ballet has come to an abrupt end, leaving you wet, faintly throbbing, and wanting more. You do not have to wait for long. Now all three of us are naked, as I took the opportunity to remove my clothes when you were enjoying Paloma. She moves around, back on top of you, but this time her face closer to yours. You, however, are looking at me, as I pull your legs up to meet me, stroke your ballet stage with my fingers, and slowly but surely enter you with something that is definitely more than my finger.”

As she said finger, she pushed two into Jemima, who moaned deeply and unashamedly.

“Your moan is cut short by Paloma once again embracing your lips, but she then moves away, moving down. She starts to kiss your breast again and her finger mimics the actions I did earlier, slipping down to that perfect spot her mouth introduced herself to earlier.”

Jemima grabbed, frantically, for Marian's underwear. She was hard against the lace. Marian paused to allow Jemima to touch her.

“Everything is being stimulated again now,” Marian tried not to moan as Jemima's hand increased the intensity in its motion, “You can still smell the fragrant candles, mixed with the pleasant, gentle perfume of Paloma. A faint taste of wine mingles with the lingering sweet, almost floral taste of Paloma herself. The music becomes difficult to hear, but still ever-present, almost... Ah... omnipresent, the overture to this ballet, this celebration of humanity, reacting so well with your own pants and moans and the moans of me as you feel me- mm- enter you, the feeling of which is made so much more powerful by Paloma's nimble fingers and her tongue fluttering like a butterfly over your nipples. But what about sight? You open your eyes and see your own body, almost merging with the bodies of Paloma and I. We are... Fuck. We're... We're one. You tense as the feeling grows more powerful, your moans practically screams, and making eye contact with Paloma, the graceful white swan of the ballet meets... a.... little death.”

Jemima moaned in ecstasy and Marian stopped for a moment, focussing entirely on pumping her fingers as vigorously as she could. Jemima screamed, bliss overtaking her, sending a warm shiver rippling over her body. She tensed, and then relaxed, and then regained her intensity as she pulled off Marian's needlessly baggy shirt. 

“I pull out of you, and you lie getting your breath back as Paloma kisses you all over. You make more eye contact with her, and realise that she is just the same as you and shouldn't be- oh, fuck, harder, my love- she shouldn't be... forgotten. Despite your muscles being totally exhausted, you take control, putting her on her back on the bed, returning her kisses all over, relishing her own shortness of breath, wanting to make her body feel as good as... yours.”

Jemima's teeth sank into Marian's neck.

“Fuck. Fuck. Jemima. Of course, I want to do the same too. Leaning over her, I enter her, and you are not jealous, because... Fuck, you know why. Jemima. Fuck. You feel as if you are watching a show, watching yourself being loved all over again, and it makes you want more.”

Jemima suddenly stood up, letting the blanket fall. She leaned over and removed Marian's underwear entirely before climbing on top of her and kissing her, hard, their chests pushing against each other, their bodies warm together.

“Another burst of control overpowers you,” Marian said as Jemima's lips moved once more to her neck, “And this time you push me back.”

Jemima's hand moved down to guide Marian into her.

“I am on my back now, and you help Paloma up. I am still inside her, though now she is on top. You take residence too, on my mouth, but not with your lips. The curtain... rises on the stage for the final... act. Mm- oh, fuck.”

Marian was inside Jemima now. They moved together, slowly at first, and speeding up, quickly, their bodies covered in sweat and little else.

“My mouth, my lips, my tongue, act out their last dance upon you, while Paloma moans in pure humanity as she moves up and down on me, much, the same, as you, are, currently, doing. Fuck.”

“Do you want to give up on the story and just fuck me?” Jemima gasped, warm breath against Marian's ear.

“No,” Marian whispered back, “I want to finish.”

“I think we both do.” Jemima moved more intensely now, and moaned in pure pleasure as Marian continued.

“You both moan almost in unison into each other's mouths, kissing, loving each other, your hands moving all over Paloma's body, adding to the pleasure and aiding its progress, as she grabs your rear, moving your intimate places further onto my mouth, fuck, fuck, fuck, oh my fucking Goddess Jemima, holy shit- holy fuck- which- moans into you and sends tingles- all over you. We are working together, our private dance reaching its unabated climax as all , three of us, reach the- mmmmmm, fuck- point of no return.”

They moaned almost in unison into each other's mouths, kissing, loving each other, both of their hands moving all over the other one's body, adding to the pleasure and aiding its progress, as Marian grabbed Jemima's rear, moving her up and down with desperate, passionate force, sending tingles all over both of them. They were working together, their private dance reaching its unabated climax as they, the two of them, reached the point of no return. They came, together, and collapsed into each other, breathing heavily. Marian broke the silence.

“All of us come together, in every sense of the word. Yours is even more intense than the first, and you feel Paloma and I relax before you're aware that you're relaxing too, and gradually the curtain falls, its velvet touch stroking the stage floor hesitantly and finally letting itself rest. We lie on the bed, the heat from our one body keeping us warm, stroking and kissing all night, talking about anything and everything, and eventually drift to sleep while the candles burn out and the ever-present music's final note echoes through the bedroom.”

They breathed together, a sweaty heap of girlfriends almost stuck together on the couch. They had been in this position many, many times before.

“So,” Marian said after a while, “What do you think?”

“I don't like it.” Jemima joked.

“Why not?” Marian smiled, playing with Jemima's hair.

“If we're going to have a threesome we're being safe about it. We're blowing the candles out at the end.”  
Marian laughed.

“That's what you picked up on? That's what you got from all of that?” She asked between giggles.

“I also picked up a new fantasy. Do you think Paloma would be into it?”

“I've... Actually spoken to her already. I had a feeling you'd choose her. All I'm saying is... Tomorrow night, wear your nicest underwear.”


End file.
